Don't Turn Out the Lights, Potter
by Tsona
Summary: The two trios (Harry, Ron, Hermione : Draco, Crabbe, Goyle) meet for a showdown in ghost stories! "Magical" horror stories, zany humor, and intense student rivalry! It's quite funny. Please read and reveiw!


_A/N: An odd little thing I cooked up. The name came first and I needed a story to go along with it. I doubt this is in my genre and I rarely write in an omniscient POV, so I ask you please, even now, for your criticisms and advice. Thank you! In revamping this, I had to come to an executive decision. I had written this as a 5th year story, but the kids all sound too young for 15, I being at the time... let's see... I would have been... 13, if my math's right, and I very new to writing. So, for the sake of not having to utterly destroy the story posted here, this is all happening, let's say, late in the 2nd year, when they would have been taking exams had they not be canceled. A little adventure JKR chose not to include. :) Enjoy!_

_Yours forever, Tsona_

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger stole quietly through the dark corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Faces in the portraits peered about suspiciously at their passing, seeing no one yet somehow entirely sure they had heard the rustle of pajamas or the patter of feet. It was near midnight and the three of them had covered themselves with the Invisibility Cloak Harry had inherited from his late father for fear of being discovered out of bed by the caretaker, Argus Filch, or his loathsome cat, Mrs. Norris.

At breakfast that morning, Harry's snowy owl, Hedwig, had delivered him a message. It had been written in a slanted handwriting none of them had ever seen before but the signature below the short message told them it had come from Draco Malfoy, whom all three greatly despised. It read: _'Meet us at the entrance to the Slytherin common room at midnight.'_ A small map had followed-- unnecessary, though Malfoy couldn't possibly know that, as Harry and Ron had already once that very term sneaked into the rival House disguised as Malfoy's own henchmen.

Well, of course, the note had roused their curiosity greatly. What could Malfoy possibly want at midnight? At the Slytherin common room of all places? And, so, after much persuasion from Ron and Harry, Hermione had agreed to accompany them that night.

The trio spied Malfoy as they turned a bend in the hall, much dwarfed as he stood beside his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, with whom he seemed to be having a hissed argument. "Shove it, Crabbe. The invitation's already sent. We can't rescind it now."

"If we just go inside," grumbled Crabbe, "they can't come in."

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of the other two and slipped it out of sight. Hermione made a noise something like a squawk in argument, making a grab for the folds; she had agreed to come only if they took the Cloak along. But Harry didn't want the Slytherins knowing about his Cloak. It was too useful, had saved him too often to be put in harm's way. He shoved it away in Hermione's book bag; Ron and Harry had both agreed she'd look least conspicuous carrying one so late in the term, with no classes, and no exams to drag at their shoulders.

Malfoy looked up from the argument, but didn't seem at all surprised to see the three of them appearing out of thin air. On the contrary, his customary smirk broadened. Hopefully he only expected them to have materialized out of the shadows.

Becoming rather nervous at this, the three Gryffindors made their way over toward the waiting trio of Slytherins.

"What's this about, Malfoy?" Ron asked quietly as they approached, his eyes darting toward the darker corners of the poorly lit dungeon hallway. Remembering when Malfoy had persuaded him and Harry to the trophy room for a duel and called Filch after them, he had expected the meeting to be a trap yet had neither seen nor heard a sign of anyone else.

"You'll see, Weasley. Nothing to worry about, though. Just a friendly little chat." Malfoy's grey eyes glinted in a way none of the Gryffindors liked. Crabbe gave the slimy-looking wall the password and it slid aside to reveal the entrance to the forbidden common room.

As the Gryffindors followed the Slytherins, Crabbe looking sulky, Goyle merely dense, over the threshold, Ron ventured to ask, "Is _anything _you ever do 'friendly,' Malfoy?"

"You'll see," Malfoy repeated as the wall slid shut behind them with a dull thud.

Looking around they saw that the fire had been allowed to burn down to embers which glowed a dull, fiery red and hardly provided any light by which to see. A bluish-white fire had been lit in a jam jar, though, in the center of the room and black, worsted pillows had been arranged around it. No one else was in the common room.

"I threatened to hex the last few first years in the room so this could be just between the six of us," Malfoy confessed.

Hermione was getting quite nervous now. What could Malfoy possibly be planning?

"Come on, then. Sit," Malfoy commanded indicating the prearranged cushions. The three Gryffindors did so, frightened not to comply while within enemy territory.

"What _is _this about?" Harry demanded.

"Just a little competition I dreamt up for our amusement," Malfoy said seating himself across from him without the usual arrogance he would have shown. "A ghost story telling competition."

At this Hermione's eyes lit up. She had often berated herself for going to slumber parties in her youth rather than staying home to study. Now those parties would at last be given a chance to pay off.

"Ghost stories?" Harry repeated blankly. That was it? This was too out of character. Way too out of character.

"Yes, Potter. Ghost stories. Anyone got one?"

Harry just shook his head in disbelief. Where was this going? Ron however looked thoughtful and Hermione excited. However each remained silent.

"All right then. I'll go first." Malfoy pulled the jar of flames closer to him and positioned it beneath him so that it cast his pale, pointed face into an eerie light, all sharp lines of bright white and black shadow. And so began, pitching his voice low:

_Once long ago, in this very castle, there was a young boy named Amadeus Jones. He was first year here, in Ravenclaw; a Mudblood. Now, Jones was not the superstitious type. He didn't believe in ghosts or werewolves or skeletons in the closet; all things we _know _to be true. Why! he barely believed in magic despite his prowess at it. His friends had told him of the rumored monster, but Jones didn't believe them. He told his friends that everything could be explained with logic and that there was no such thing as monsters. He had often been told so by his foolish Muggle parents._

_His friends argued. They said that some of the other students had _heard_ the monster as it prowled the school. They said it sought blood._

_Well, realizing that no amount of logical talk could convince his naive friends, Jones made them a deal. He would go out into the castle at midnight during the new moon, when the beast was rumored to roam. He would prove to them once and for all that there was no monster in Hogwarts. They called him a fool._

_But young Jones didn't listen. Oh no! On the night of the new moon, barely a week later, he set out. He planned the trip carefully. He planned to stay the full night and when he arrived in the common room that morning his friends would have to see sense and give up their childish beliefs. Or so he planned._

_Jones wandered the whole of the castle, keeping to the shadows to avoid the caretaker in those days, Gareus Shine. All went well. All went as planned. Midnight came and midnight went. And Jones knew he had won. He had not seen hide nor hair of any beast._

_And then _it _came. An unearthly sound that reverberated off the walls. The sharp hiss of metal against stone like an executioner sharpening his ax before a beheading._

_Jones stopped stock-still, listening, but the sound had died away. He continued on, reprimanding himself for getting caught up in foolish superstition._

_But then it came again! Like nails against a chalkboard. Jones spun around to face the echoing sound searching for its source. For, of course, all noise has to come from somewhere. "Who's there?" he called out to the silence as the scraping sound bounced off along the corridors._

_No one answered._

"_Hello?" he called again._

_Still, no response._

_And then he saw it! A dark shadow, indistinct in the darkness of the moonless night. Jones quickly lit his wand. There was a gleam of silver as the wand beam fell across a suit of armor. Jones sighed with relief._

_But then the suit raised its hooked hand. A shining flash of silver was the last thing little Jones saw before everything went black._

Ron shivered slightly but Malfoy wasn't finished.

_That morning, upon finding him gone, his friends went to find young Jones. And they did. In the corridor. He lay on the floor, eyes wide and staring and mouth hanging upon slightly. A vicious bloody gash along his shoulder was the only clue left to his murder..._

Malfoy smirked at the stunned looks on the Gryffindors' faces. "So, my ickle chickens, let's see if you can beat that!"

_A/N: MUHAHA! Ghost stories! Gryffindor vs. Slytherin! Who'll come off the better? Read on to find out! Next chapter: Hermione gets her turn and so does Ron! Hmmm... who'll come off best in this? Place your votes in the reviews! Mind, I think it's pretty much a closed competition. And please, no biased counts. Slytherins are human too!_

_Yours forever, Tsona_


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